Page 41 of Frost and Death
Rolling side to side in bed, I try to diminish the building desire that was left unsatisfied this evening. I stare at the vaulted ceiling, and my thoughts expand tenfold as time drifts by.
My insomnia shines bright tonight.
Politics, grief, and lust take turns swimming to the surface of my thoughts, and as my arousal grows, I cave to my urges by teasing my body for a release. My fingertips trail down my neck in slow, methodical movements, as I imagine Niko’s touch instead of my own.
His phantom touch around my hips from earlier draws my hands lower, circling my pebbling nipples.
I pinch one of my breasts at the thought of Niko’s breath mingling with mine.
My hips buck as I drift further down my body.
I roam my hands around my lower stomach and coast up and down my thighs in anticipation. When I find my center, I shudder at the wetness.
I rub in a steady rhythm, images of amber eyes studying me drive my hand to move at a faster pace.
I want him here with me now, in this moment, driving into my body, fulfilling each one of my fantasies. I flick my pussy, sending a light flicker of frost from my fingertips to breeze along my clit.
The switch in temperature draws a deep, guttural moan from my chest.
My chest rises and falls from the pleasure and magic coming to life. I breathe through the energy of my power, hot and heady but cautious when I feed my powers alongside my arousal.
I could never do this with another, knowing it could backfire on them. But I’ve mastered this little glimpse of power, allowing me to hate my abilities a little less.
The sensation of cold on my pussy warms, and I flick my clit one more time, inserting one finger, throwing my head back in ecstasy.
I focus on the ceiling as I work myself, the slow buildup sensually teasing me in my lower abdomen.
Niko’s image comes to my mind as I insert a second finger, trying to imagine the lustful words he would whisper in my ear. I pinch my nipple then move my hand down to join the other at my center.
The dual stimulation only gets me so far as I buck my hips, wishing wholeheartedly for Niko to be the one doing this to me.
I pinch my center and envision his thickness driving into me. My mind and hands work in sync to the fantasy playing in my head, and I ride my way to a long, needy orgasm.
I relax as I remove my hands, catching my breath as I come down from the high I finally scratched.
A coppery stench drifts to my senses, and my nose pinches.
Sighing at the mess I made, I rise from my bed to examine the magnitude of my disarray.
Pulling the bed sheet off, I crumple it up, dropping it on the ground near my bathing chambers.
I grab a dressing robe and reach for the bells connected to the staff’s rooms, alerting them for a bath and a change of sheets.
9
A Wedding Present
The Celebration of Spirits revolves around honoring Yeva, the Deity of Life, and Letum, the Deity of Death, through a tradition of a lantern ceremony. During the lighting of each flame, one chooses which deity to honor. If choosing Letum, you whisper your gratitude for knowing and loving the ones passed on. If choosing Yeva, you wish for the blessing of new life.
The lantern ceremony has become one of my favorite celebrations these last five years. The beautiful beacons of light filling the winter sky feel as if my family’s spirits are the closest they’ll ever be.
Every year since their passing, I have lit three lanterns and honored Letum, but as I turn toward my staff and light the first one, I decide I am going to honor Yeva.
Ahead of me in the courtyard, guests are bundled together, seeking warmth from the frigid, bitter breeze while waiting for me to speak.
My hands are shaking despite holding a flame. While it could be due to the weather, it is really because I’m terrible when addressing a crowd.
Swallowing a gulp as I steady my breathing, I take a step forward, and the guests slip into a hush.
